


Weight of Words

by HappyHour



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Other, Power Imbalance, Rape Aftermath, Sexual Coercion, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Workplace Rape, can't say no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 19:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyHour/pseuds/HappyHour
Summary: It happens one day in the lab, seemingly out of nowhere, but Brainstorm has then to deal with the aftermath of it, and what comes after.Note:Reposted, was posted back in 2017.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I deleted this story because of certain themes that conflicted with then current events and I didn't feel comfortable. On better consideration I've decided to repost it, after finally recovering the text which I had thought lost.
> 
> Unfortunately Character list and Tags were not recovered, so I had to go off from memory.

Sometimes the lab needed to be quiet. Brainstorm worked on his latest idea, trying to figure out how to bend the laws of physics to make it actually work. He had heard of Killmaster’s wand, and was wondering how that did actually work, and how he could make something like that. Just a whoosh and the target was gone. So far he had come up with a lot of nothing, giving the constrictions of physics, but there had to be some sort of alternative to what was going on, because even a genius like him couldn’t quite ignore the laws of mass conservation.

Brainstorm chuckled to himself when he thought of size and mass shifting. Maybe something like that was happening, that Killmaster’s victim were just the size of microns running around until someone stepped on them.

But that still didn’t make sense. The cost behind mass shifting was far too great to make it a weapon, especially in a little tool such as the wand. There were several other possibilities, but it wasn’t Brainstorm’s job to figure it out. Or even replicate it. That could risk copyright infringement and he didn’t really want to deal with that side of the Tyrest Accord. But there were plenty of ways to do the same as the wand did, or at least the effect, and not appear to have just stolen the idea.

The lab was silent with exception of Brainstorm assembling an actual gun, his latest creation. There were plenty on board that just needed a gun, but most of them didn’t want it to be just simply guns. That was why they went to Brainstorm instead of getting one at the next trading post. Brainstorm had all the bells and whistles as a bonus, not as a vanity upgrade. And assembling something he had already made enabled Brainstorm to do the actual work, what his name actually meant. Not many appreciated that part of the science job.

Brainstorm did not flinch when he heard another sound other than his tools working on the gun. He knew better than to do that in his own lab, no matter what he was working on, it was just good habit to have. He stopped his work, slightly angry that his train of thought had been interrupted, and then narrowed his eyes when he saw his visitor.

“So just what brings the ship’s microscope to my lab?” Brainstorm asked. While he was still under the terms of his probation Perceptor was usually good about not going to the lab outside of the prescribed times. Brainstorm was more used to Ultra Magnus coming over whenever a sensor in his lab had a deviation that was still within five percent of allowed deviation.

“I want to know what exactly your fascination with me is.” Perceptor answered. He walked in with an air of confidence that Brainstorm hadn’t seen before. Not that Perceptor wasn’t confident, but it was something else in him, some other type of confidence that Brainstorm had seen more in Prowl than anyone else. And Prowl exuded that kind of confidence when he knew he could make Brainstorm do something questionable.

Brainstorm hated it when someone forced him to do something. He liked to operate by his own rules. Prowl never had any give. Perceptor had some only because he couldn't stand Brainstorm some days.

So him coming in like that he owned the lab was a new one. Then Brainstorm realized what the comment meant. Perceptor didn’t come here like he owned the lab, he came here like he owned Brainstorm.

“Because you’re my rival, my opposition.” Brainstorm answered flippantly but his hopes of unrattling Perceptor were dashed when he saw that Perceptor wasn’t even offended by the answer, just looking like a textbook definition of being unimpressed.

“You’ve never been a good liar.” Perceptor answered as he came closer. “Are you sure that your interest isn’t something more? Something you might even be in denial of?” Perceptor came even closer, his face uncomfortably close to Brainstorm’s. Brainstorm tried to stop himself from leaning back, but with how Perceptor was practically invading his private space he couldn’t help but to do it.

“I am sure of my reasons.” Brainstorm said, trying to pull himself together but the moment Perceptor touched his arm, just by the nook of his stabilizer wings, he froze, concentration blown away.

And then Perceptor let him go in favor of going to his assembly table with the various tools and the gun in process, which Brainstorm had nearly forgotten about. Perceptor’s hand ran at the edge of the table, stopping when it came to a small red microscope.

“For someone as you to protest when the evidence is right there -” Perceptor said, running his fingers over the scope in a manner that everyone would call too lewd if he did it at Swerve’s.

“Stop.” Brainstorm said, a feeble gesture with how Perceptor acted like he owned the lab. Like he owned Brainstorm.

But Perceptor put it down and turned to face Brainstorm. “Want the real deal?” He asked. “To stop play with toys and dreams? I’ve noticed you looking at me.”

Brainstorm had a pained expression on his face. That wasn’t what it was. It was envy. That others looked to Perceptor first even though Brainstorm knew the solution to their problems even as much as Perceptor at times. He was the one that made a time travel device when Perceptor said such thing was impossible, and even now he was ridiculed and thought of only as a gunsmith than the scientist he was. He recalled him and Perceptor working together on Kup, breaking boundaries, toy with technology that could have backfired on them and yet they had made it work, together.

And Perceptor was wrong. And Brainstorm knew that convincing him otherwise would be hard. Too hard.

“It’s not like that.” Brainstorm spat out. He would rather have Perceptor report him than do what he was suggesting. He knew what others had whispered and suggested, what others thought he really felt for Perceptor. He had hoped that Perceptor was not the one to think the same of Brainstorm.

“Then what is it like?” Perceptor asked and had closed the distance alarmingly fast. He was right up to Brainstorm, his flat chest almost touching Brainstorm’s curved front.

His hand on Brainstorm’s midsection, light on the touch but still demanding respect. And obedience. Brainstorm didn’t dare to back away, uncertain of Perceptor and what he really had planned.

“Please don’t Perceptor.” Brainstorm’s bravado and self-confidence was long gone, pinned by five fingers and the threat of expulsion or imprisonment or both.

Perceptor kissed him on the neck, the typical kind of ciss when it came to someone with a mouth going for someone with a faceplate covering theirs. Brainstorm tilted his head which made the spot even more open and easier to access. He didn’t have any good recourse. Perceptor was the one in charge. And Brainstorm couldn’t do anything about it.

Perceptor became even more brazen in his pursuit for a frag, pushing Brainstorm from the wall and with his fingers guiding Brainstorm down on the hard floor.

Brainstorm didn’t fight back, even when he felt the chill of the laboratory floor hitting him on the back and sending him chills, making him shiver. Perceptor made some indiscernible sound before dropping down on his knees and hands above Brainstorm, making him the only thing Brainstorm could see right now. He resumed kissing Brainstorm on the neck but then went further down, licking the cockpit and the sides of it.

And his hand wandered to Brainstorm’s closed valve cover.

Brainstorm froze, trying his best not to go completely stiff by the violation of what was going on. This was not where hands wandered without a specific purpose. Kisses he knew that could end in just kisses. A touch like that had a definite part in a bigger play that was unfolding, even when he didn’t want it.

The kisses and touches became more pressing and aggressive. Brainstorm could feel how the fingers stopped just stroking the closed cover and were beginning to curl around the edges of it in a pure want to see the cover open rather than enticing it to open.

“Perceptor -” Brainstorm said low, but the words disappeared in his throat. What could he even say? What could he even do to convince him to stop?

“Then open.” Perceptor said low, whispering into his audial as his fingers dug into the seam of the valve cover.

Brainstorm obeyed. He trembled in disgust as he felt the rush of fresh air breeze at his valve and revealing that it was already somewhat wet. Not as wet as it was when he self-serviced, but he had to blame Perceptor's kisses and touches of his more sensitive areas.

Brainstorm couldn’t help but to cry out in fear when he felt Perceptor’s fingers stroking the valve lips. Perceptor paused for a moment but didn’t look up. Probably didn’t want to see the fear in Brainstorm’s optics. But he still continued, though slightly slower than before.

Brainstorm shuffled his feet on the floor, desperate to do something but was too afraid to push Perceptor away. He tilted his head away so he couldn’t see Perceptor, but Perceptor took it as an invitation to kiss his exposed neck just as he pushed a finger into the valve.

Brainstorm’s vents hitched as he felt the finger enter the slick passage, pushing in and out and catching some lubricant on it. Brainstorm knew because the finger left the valve and then brushed up between the valve lips to the outer node, carefully rubbing the sensitive nub. Brainstorm couldn’t help but to arch his back, and move his legs closer to him, both pushing into the sensation but also desperately wanting Perceptor to stop. 

Perceptor repeated it few times, working up the production of lubricants. It was when Perceptor added another finger that Brainstorm worked up the courage to look.

Perceptor was above him, having stopped kissing him some time ago. His head was tilted down, not looking at Brainstorm’s own face as he continued to molest him. Before he knew what he was really doing, Brainstorm followed Perceptor’s gaze. He wasn’t in the position to look at what Perceptor was doing with his valve, but he saw Perceptor’s spike, fully erect and poking out between his legs.

Brainstorm tried to rise up on his elbows but a feeling of sickness washed over him. That was a spike. That was a spike that was about to go into his valve. He didn’t want that. He wanted this to stop, to end. For Perceptor to leave him alone. For him to have never come into his laboratory with that look in his optics and -

Brainstorm suddenly noticed the loss of fingers in his valve, the slick hand moving away from his array. He finally managed to rise up but as he was getting his legs ready he saw what was happening. Perceptor towered over him, holding his own spike as he leaned even closer to Brainstorm but he didn’t look at Brainstorm’s face. He looked down between them, one hand holding the tip of his spike and the other went to Brainstorm’s waist, pressing down on Brainstorm and made him take some of Perceptor’s weight and keep him still as Perceptor lined up his spike with Brainstorm’s valve.

It went in with far more ease than Brainstorm thought it would. Perceptor went slow, withdrawing slightly before going in deeper, repeating it until they were flush together. Brainstorm saw how Perceptor shivered, probably taking some enjoyment in feeling his warm valve.

When Perceptor seemed to be lightly over the bliss he leaned down and continued to kiss Brainstorm on the upper chest, on and around the Autobot insignia. A reminder why Brainstorm didn’t fight back. He let his still slick hand wander down to just above where they were together, his finger moving over the spike cover. This time Brainstorm didn’t even put up a token resistance, unfurling the iris of the spike cover and his still unpressurized spike flopped out. Perceptor kissed Brainstorm on the neck as he took the spike in his hand, moving it up and down few times until he seemingly realized there was something else he could be doing. He let go of the still flaccid spike and moved his hips.

Brainstorm couldn’t get a good grip on anything, feeling his back skid the floor with each thrust Perceptor made. Perceptor bowed over him, his mouth seemingly trying to keep itself occupied as he kissed and licked at Brainstorm’s chest. Never looking Brainstorm in his optics.

Then he braced one hand on the floor while the other, carrying no weight, touched Brainstorm’s front wing. Soft gentle touches, working the few grooves and seams that were there, touching the tips of it, stroking the fingers along the edges in a maddenly soft and careful touch. Brainstorm whimpered, hating that this was a sensitive part of him to properly judge the air currents to know how to move them to go in the direction he wanted. He rarely did fly, having been excused from the battlefield a long time ago to focus on his craft, but it didn’t make his wings any less sensitive to touches like these. 

As Brainstorm moved, twitched and was unable to keep his moans away Perceptor moved even faster, his touches no longer experimental but now moving with sheer purpose, even when still thrusting into Brainstorm.

Brainstorm felt sick as he could feel it happen. He bend his legs in a futile attempt as Perceptor was between them, holding onto Brainstorm’s waist to keep him still as he probably saw what was happening, his brilliant calculating mind seeing the slight increase in ventilation coupled with how tense Brainstorm was getting. And who was Perceptor to deny Brainstorm an overload he was forcing on him?

It came suddenly, like as if something popped and a sudden rush of chilling feeling overflowed Brainstorm’s body and mind. The overload crashed over him in waves, and he looked between him and Perceptor to see his own still flaccid spike spurt out transfluid with each of the wave, getting weaker and weaker. He didn’t realize he had been crying out with each of Perceptor’s thrust until the overload finally subsided, allowing Brainstorm to regain his senses enough to know that Perceptor was not stopping. Now both his hands were holding onto Brainstorm’s waist, his thrusting getting faster and more forceful and Perceptor now grunted each time he buried his spike as far as he could into Brainstorm’s valve.

It came on suddenly, Perceptor trying to get his spike even deeper in as he moaned loudly, barely withdrawing before thrusting again. He didn’t pull out at any point, apparently being too into the interface as he thrusted and moaned each time he ejaculated deep into Brainstorm’s valve.

Perceptor bowed down, his spike still in Brainstorm’s valve even though he was done, both of them were done. He then put his face close to Brainstorm’s, his mouth slightly parted as he clearly considered a proper kiss. But before Brainstorm could react he lifted himself up, his spike coming out unceremoniously as he let go of Brainstorm.

And he smiled as he stood up, offering a hand to Brainstorm. Brainstorm felt sick and confused but still accepted the offered hand, helping him up on his legs. They felt weak. He had forgotten how much being fragged drained him. Perceptor was still smiling, closing up his spike cover while brushing away errant transfluid or lubricant from his array.

“That felt good.” Perceptor said, his smile faltering as Brainstorm wasn’t quite returning it. “Again sometimes soon, right?” He said as he turned around and headed for the exit.

“Right.” Brainstorm muttered low, but loud enough for Perceptor to hear him.

He heard the door shut but he didn’t move. He closed his array covers as the thought of a long hot time in the washracks came to him, to clean himself properly.

He didn’t know what to do after that.


	2. Chapter 2

Brainstorm was not avoiding Perceptor. He was simply finding more time to work on his stuff while asking Ultra Magnus, Minimus Ambus, whatever, to check stuff off instead of Perceptor. He figured that Ultra Magnus would simply pass the reports along to Perceptor if he really thought what Brainstorm was working on was dangerous. That was why Brainstorm spent more time on adding comprehensive details to the reports, making it understandable to someone like Ultra Magnus.

Because if he could get it, then there was no need to involve someone else. Even if that someone else was someone that Brainstorm had once wanted to pay attention to his work. The one that he had previously sent his reports to.

He had technically supposed to have been sending them to Ultra Magnus. Now that oversight was corrected. He even looked up the rules that he had to follow that were imposed on him during the ruling. They were simple, slightly more restrictive than he wanted, but if he followed them there was nothing that could be used against him.

Brainstorm’s datapad pinged, response from Ultra Magnus. He picked it up and looked at the wall of text. It took a bit of a moment to decipher Magnuslish, but he saw that his request to develop a body-control gun was not approved. Apparently it violated some code or another. Brainstorm missed Kimia and the war. Then he could actually work on his ideas and get the committee to reject them after he demonstrated the weapon, then they were silently approved as the war grew dire and someone remembered some documents about weapons that were perfect for the situation at hand.

Alright, it didn’t happen that often but it happened enough times to justify that kind of work.

Reading more of the Magnuslish, he saw that the report had not even crossed Perceptor’s desk. That was a plus. Perceptor could focus on his own work and not have a reason to go to Brainstorm’s lab.

Brainstorm’s mind was empty for a moment, stuck between projects. His gaze went to the floor.

He could still see the scuffmarks after his back.

It wasn’t there, he had gotten that fixed, buffed out the floor with a cleaning drone. He had made sure that there was no trace left. There had been no trace left few days ago.

Yet he could see the scuffmarks, hear the grunts from Perceptor, feel that touch on his chest and -

Brainstorm didn’t even notice himself leaving the lab. He was simply outside of it. He didn’t even blink. He wasn’t working anyway. He could go elsewhere for now. Get inspiration for a new project. He still held the datapad with Ultra Magnus’s report. It could be an interesting read. Maybe there was a loophole in whatever regulation, law or citation that Magnus was referencing for his judgement against his tool. It would be an interesting weapon at least, stop someone in their tracks in an one-on-one fight. Those didn’t happen very often.

Like fragging on the floor of his lab didn’t happen very often.

Brainstorm flicked the datapad around, playing with it as he couldn’t concentrate. Maybe it was because he was walking at the same time. Of course going back to the lab was the best place to be to read something like this, somewhere where there was peace and quiet and no one dared to come into his lab for any reason -

Brainstorm stomped heavily over to Swerve’s, still carrying the datapad in his hand. Maybe he needed a drink. Or two. At least he could drink Swerve’s swill now. That poor bot thought that Brainstorm had known about the bad engex the whole time and never bothered to tell anyone.

No need to tell the biggest blabbermouth of all that the poisoning had been deliberate. Not that many knew about the whole time travel thing and no one needed to know. That was why not many knew about Brainstorm’s punishment. It was being kept.on the low-down just for the sake of the whole “Brainstorm tried to destroy the universe” thing that people might object to. Or try to convince themselves that their goal in their time travel adventure would not be universe-ending.

Brainstorm didn’t care. That was in the past, he didn’t need any time travel anymore. And that his research got torched, including the extra briefcase that he had wanted to study because who could resist figuring out why his timecase survived the erasure of the quantum duplicate. Well, Rewind was also a new piece in that puzzle but he and Chromedome were adamant on not letting Brainstorm get his scientific tools anywhere near the newly recovered data stick archivist.

“Ten.” Ten said as he looked over Brainstorm.

“Nothing here.” Brainstorm said. “I don’t bring my projects here. Last time I did things went south pretty fast.”

“Ten.” Ten nodded and stepped aside, looking at the datapad for a moment as if to ascertain that it was really just a datapad and nothing else, nothing more serious than that.

Though Ultra Magnus’s reports could be certified as weapons. He recalled late Trailbreaker being able to actually slap a real bona fida certification sticker on some report of his.

Brainstorm chose a corner booth to share with just Magnus’s report that could take the other two-three chairs. If Swerve noticed that he actually ordered from him instead of using his flask then he didn’t say anything. Poor guy, he probably should come clean about it at some point.

Maybe coming clean about several things would mean less scrutiny. But then again everyone would just be asking what Brainstorm’s game was instead of taking him by his word.

As if his words meant anything right now. No, now was time for Magnus’s words, try to decipher the meaning behind them and figure out what he could do that wouldn’t mean a big fat reject stamp.

He missed Trailcutter on Kimia. He usually asked the right questions and spelled it out what was wrong with the weapon so Brainstorm could make improvements while keeping it within the rules. Ultra Magnus did the same, yes, but he hid it under such obscure legalese and his own dialect that a dictionary would be appreciated.

Perceptor would just say “No”.

He probably said it so often that he thought the concept of No was known just to him and Brainstorm would never know the magic of the word or the meaning. He certainly didn’t seem to understand yesterday.

“Hi Stormy!” Nautica sat down with whatever fancy drink she got from Swerve this time. Poor bot now had to keep special stock for the connoisseur Camien if he wanted her here instead of “Visages”.

“Hello Nautica.” Brainstorm practically threw the datapad at the wall, giving up on it for now. He picked up a small device he had made during the war, toying with it between his fingers. No more briefcase, no more cuff to play with.

“So,” Nautica said as she looked at the datapad as it clattered on the table. “Hard reading?” She asked smiling as she got herself comfortable.

“Magnus’s report.” Brainstorm said. “Not my idea of entertainment. Or reading. Or anything that someone should do.” He took a sip from his own generic and bland high-grade. Cheapest one available.

“Maybe I can help.” Nautica said as she picked up the datapad. “What are you looking for in this?”

“I need to figure out what laws, regulations or moral code I’m breaking with my latest suggestion.” Brainstorm answered. Need direct text of that to see what loopholes exists.

“I have to admit I have not read the Autobot code yet, but I’ll see what I can…” The datapad drooped a bit in her hands as she apparently ran into some perplexing yet paradoxically boring paragraph. “... do” She finally finished her sentence as she put a finger on the datapad, apparently zeroing in on the line so she could focus.

“Take your time.” Brainstorm smiled for the first time in a while. Not really visible with his facemask, but he knew that Nautica had already gotten used to his expressions.

“This is -” Nautica tilted the datapad as if expecting the words to spill out. “This is absolutely horrid. How can anyone read this? How can anyone write this?!”

“You, you have met Ultra Magnus, right?” Brainstorm asked. “I mean -” Brainstorm realized what he was about to say, so he activated his little device. A small sound nullifier, creating a little Cone of Silence around them, though they could hear each other. “You were at the trial, if Rodimus hadn’t been there we would still be there in the preliminaries.”

Nautica stopped tilting the datapad, realizing what their talk had led to. Her eyes wandered to the device, wondering what exactly it had done since she saw it now activated.

“Cone of silence. We even appear as if not talking to each other at all.” Brainstorm said.

“Good way to talk about secrets.” Nautica said. “You wanted to talk about the trial?” She asked.

“No. Yes. Sorta.” Brainstorm leaned back. “Perceptor raped me.”

Nautica now dropped the datapad as she stared at Brainstorm, trying to read something in his body language, but Brainstorm was too prepared, too relaxed. 

“Is this another sort of in-joke thing I’m not getting?” She asked.

“Nope, it did happen.” Brainstorm said. “I just -” He played with the half-empty glass, making it roll on the edges of the bottom, making big circles. “I don’t think anyone else will believe me. And you are supposed to tell someone about this.”

“Someone like Rung.” Nautica said. “I mean, I’m listening but you know that Rung is actually trained for this. And probably First Aid as well, and Lotty.”

“And they are probably bound to report it.” Brainstorm said. “And I think that would just lead to more problems for me.”

“Stormy -” Nautica leaned forwards on the table, trying to reach him.

“I know you’re new to the Lost Light, and the Autobots. But you know as well as I do that if Perceptor denies it, or says I wanted it, who is actually going to believe me?” Brainstorm asked, then the glass tipped in the wrong direction and spilled. Brainstorm jumped up at the sudden rush of high-grade spilling on him, and he deactivated the Cone of Silence.

“I’ll get that.” Bluestreak said as he came over with a washcloth, apparently believing in being prepared. “I’ll be over with a new glass.”

“No thanks.” Brainstorm said. “I have a Magnus report to read. I think reading it while full on high-grade is not a good idea.” He did accept the offered cloth to dry himself, stroking it over himself quickly, then simply handed it back to Bluestreak and left. Nautica followed, leaving her half-full glass behind.

“Stormy.” Nautica said as they were outside and alone, walking down the hallway. “Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.

“Sure. Like I said, I gotta tell someone, right?” Brainstorm said. “Oil reservoir.” He nodded in the direction of the reservoir.


	3. Chapter 3

Brainstorm cleaned up the remainder of the stains on the floor. He had already finished with the table, as little as that was. He had managed to do it without dry heaving six times, five times was enough, no need to exceed that.

As he inspected the scene of the crime he recalled how it happened again. Perceptor not listening, Brainstorm not fighting back. Bent over the table, hands pinned above his head until Perceptor had shifted and pinned his arm behind his back. The spike sometimes slipping out prematurely as Perceptor chased his own overload instead of thinking about Brainstorm, but quickly coming in again as Perceptor had never any second thoughts about anything. Why would he start now?

Six times. Brainstorm quickly turned away to get himself some energon, maybe that would help his reaction. A small cube in the safe refrigerator quickly disappeared as he removed his facemask and drank it directly instead of using the regular tube.

He didn’t want to bother Nautica. He knew that she and Skids were doing something together. She hadn’t spent any less time with him since his confession, the latter confession, not the trial, but Brainstorm couldn’t help but to feel more lonely now than ever.

The energon tasted bland. It was just the basic refined stuff, nothing more about it, nothing added to it. Brainstorm gripped the half-empty glass as he recalled what was also pretty bland but refined, something he had respected for a while. But not anymore.

“Frag this.” He muttered as he tipped the glass up to his lips, but he couldn’t tip it the last few degrees to get the energon flowing to his mouth.

Seven times. He had barely managed to avoid spilling the energon on the floor. He slammed it on the table, the contents of it too little to jump out and spill over, not staining the now pristine table that showed no evidence of a romp or a rape. Brainstorm didn’t admit to himself he thought that as he turned around and left his lab in a hurry.

He was halfway over to Swerve’s when he realized there was another stop he had to make. Perceptor had again dumped transfluid into his valve and he would need to get that out. He did not want it absorbed or leaking out. He turned to the washracks, a bit of ways away but he knew his body well enough that he could make it in time before anything uncomfortable would happen. On the way he didn’t pass anyone in particular, and they didn’t seem to react to him as well. Except for Hound, but he apparently knew when someone had been fragging or not. Some sort of super-olfactory sense. And it looked like, judging by his smile, he had picked up on Brainstorm’s unwanted addition in his valve. Or the smell of smoked joints or rubbed metal or flaming fuel. Whatever smells that came with fragging.

Of course he smiled. If it were serious then Brainstorm would be looking disheveled, bruised and cracked or having some sort of emotional or mental breakdown.

The facemask helped masking all that.

Brainstorm finally found the washracks and entered without anyone else smiling at him or gesturing towards him. He felt the urge to call Nautica and tell her but he knew that she needed her time away from him. What kind of friend was he if he just dumped all his problems onto her? Of course Skids with his amnesia was also doing the same but his was different. He didn’t feel his hands trembling. Amnesia felt like a good idea now. Maybe that would fix things.

Of course Ultra Magnus had nixed that idea when Brainstorm proposed to recreate the mind bullet guns. New Institute tech, but now forbidden at the end of the war. It was amazing to begin with that the Tyrest Accords had articles addressing what to do after the war, what to forbid. Brainstorm certainly had not seen it coming, but then again he was an M.T.O. They didn’t see anything beyond the next fight as some thought.

Brainstorm certainly was running into far more red tape after the war ended.

Washracks. Private stall. Brainstorm collected his thoughts for long enough to actually do what he planned to do. Get clean, get to Swerve’s for something not bland or flat, and then… then somewhere. He could think of it later. After.

Unsurprisingly the more extravagant stalls were taken. It was more like a lottery if one could get one of those without hassle. And Brainstorm knew that if he took long time in one of those he would be face to face with some rather annoyed mechs once he came out. At least Sunstreaker had left the Lost Light already. He had started fights in the washracks over those special stalls.

Brainstorm went to a basic stall, just a handheld hose he could aim wherever. He played with it for a moment, making himself slick with solvents before he aimed it down and cleaning his inner thighs. Well, those had been spotless already but there was no harm in making sure. And he needed to clean his back and the back of his thighs, that’s was probably where he had missed a spot or two.

When he parted his valve cover he didn’t spend any time prepping himself and let the solvent hit him right on. It felt like nothing in particular. Like solvent hitting the rest of his body. Brainstorm grunted as he felt a stray jet hit his exterior node, but he was quick to divert it away. Not now. 

Probably never again.

Brainstorm splayed his legs apart as he put his fingers to his valve, parting it to let more of the thankfully safe solvent penetrate the inside of his valve. It still felt like nothing. Which was odd as Brainstorm was no stranger to do this for self-service. Not his preferred method but the best one to do something privately when lacking personal quarters. He faintly recalled how he had actually overloaded with Perceptor just now but it had felt weak and without the regular kick. Like when he self-serviced when just bored, had nothing to do, but even his body seemed to join in the boredom and didn’t want anything to do with fragging or self-servicing. More like a chore than anything, with the equal satisfaction or doing something that he would rather do anything but.

It felt odd, but Brainstorm brushed it aside. Of course Perceptor had broken him. Rape caused a lot of things, so why not this as well?

Brainstorm froze when someone yanked on the stall door. He didn’t say anything, but the sound of the solvent running away from between his legs to a nearby wall was different enough to indicate someone was inside. Brainstorm pictured Perceptor on the other side, trying to crack open the simple lock for a second round of Brainstorm’s valve, maybe even force him to make use of his mouth for once.

Not eight times. Brainstorm managed to quell the reaction from the mere thought of being taken again, no matter which way. And there hadn’t been another attempt to open the door by force.

He knew that Perceptor really wasn’t there, but the pain of forcing his engine to not rev up fear got to him. His hands trembled and his legs slowly slinked down under him as they grew too weak to support him. He trembled, even as he heard a far off stall door open and let someone in, the jet of solvent starting for whomever it was that had wanted his stall to begin with but settled down for a different one.

Paralyzed by the thought that any second now Perceptor would come in and yank his legs apart and force him to bare his array, Brainstorm just laid down on the floor, curling up in the cramped space of the stall.

It felt like hours until he finally exited the stall. Smelling excessively of solvents but the most important thing was that he was clean.


	4. Chapter 4

“Okay, I think we can safely rule that we cannot play any more games.” Brainstorm said as he threw down the dice. Even a cooperative game and they had lost.

“Stormy don’t be like that.” Nautica smiled as she was about to pack up the dice before Nightbeat did.

“We tried card games, but Skids here counts the deck, and-”

“It’s not like I do it on purpose.” Skids rebuked.

“AND you also learn how the rest of us play and how you counter that.” Brainstorm continued. “And games that come down to chance, don’t get me started on those!” Brainstorm crossed his arms in his usual theatrical way, shut his optics and tilted his head up. “Nightbeat tries to figure out the best optimum strategy -”

“Hey!”

“And you Nautica, you don’t only encourage him but correct him!” Brainstorm glared at Nautica in mockery, ignoring Nightbeat’s pretend outrage.

“It’s not my fault that knowing statistics and how chance works is a fundamental part of quantum mechanics.” Nautica shrugged. “Well, if not games, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe get sloshed.” Brainstorm sighed, walking over to one of his cabinets but didn’t open it. He didn’t really want to get drunk now. He just wanted to hang with his friends. Actual friends. Only one of them knew what had happened during the poisoning incident and had forgiven him.

It stung to think that he didn’t know if the others would forgive him as easily. And he was counting the drama Nautica had when he had confessed during the trial.

“As long as no one gets so drunk they try to break into the medbay.” Skids said. Nightbeat smiled, Nautica didn’t. Brainstorm just shrugged as he finally opened the cabinet.

“You got anything good in there?” Nautica asked, stretching forwards to see into the cabinet. It was sparse in everything, but Brainstorm brought out couple of bottles. Something that couldn’t be gotten at Swerve’s, but could have easily been found at “Visages”.

“It isn’t triple-distilled -” Brainstorm said as he put the bottles down on the table. He hadn’t noticed Skids having stood up, but he did notice when the glasses came soon after with Skids sitting down.

“Lamina-moon Clear.” Nautica said, holding the bottle in her hands and looking at the clear liquid inside.

“I hope it meets your high standards.” Brainstorm said as he sat down. Nautica chose not to answer except by opening the bottle.

\---

Brainstorm wondered how it could be that when he had friends over the hab suite was small and cramped, but when he had to clean up the mess, alone, it was easily half the length of the ship. Everyone had gone now, done a token cleanup to help but their combined efforts had not done half of the job.

At least Nautica had stayed, asked couple of questions, looking so awkward when conflicted with wanting to help Brainstorm but not knowing how. Brainstorm didn’t know how to deal with Perceptor either. Laying down and taking it seemed to be the most painless solution.

At least he had stopped retching some time ago. He even calmly swept the floor when considering how used to it he had gotten. No overloads though, he was starting to feel numb to it all. Not like Perceptor noticed. He was too preoccupied with chasing his own overload.

And now his door alarm chimed. Brainstorm pushed the sweeper into a corner as he came to the doors and opened them.

He couldn’t move when he saw Perceptor on the other side, his body relaxed, hands not held rigidly to his sides.

“No.” Brainstorm said the moment he regained his senses and some control of himself.

“No what? I haven’t said anything.” Perceptor answered, his posture becoming more stiff as he was met with hostility for being just there.

“You do not come here, you do not come to my hab suite expecting me to bend over.” Brainstorm said. So far all their encounters had been in the lab. This was the first time Perceptor was in Brainstorm’s quarters, except when he had tried to dismantle his time machine.

“Well, if that’s the problem, I know of a good observation dome that’s always empty.” Perceptor smiled, moving slightly aside as if Brainstorm would be following him after hearing few pretty words.

“No.” Brainstorm said, crossing his arms. “I don’t know what the frag you get out of this, but I’m not going to fall in line and follow you.”

Perceptor opened his mouth as if to say something, but he closed it, taking a look past Brainstorm and into the hab suite, as if trying to figure out if there was someone else in there. If there was any witnesses. Brainstorm stood stiff, trying not to shudder as he let his mind wander about what Perceptor might try next to get Brainstorm to lay down and receive him.

“Just go Perceptor.” Brainstorm said. “The lab is fine. Just don’t take the hab suite away from me.”

Perceptor looked back to Brainstorm, his optics focusing on him as if he was solving some puzzle or calculating a chemical reaction in his head. Brainstorm could have sworn he looked confused.

Though then again, this was the first time Brainstorm was firmly denying his advances. He figured Perceptor simply had not anticipated it.

Perceptor didn’t say anything as he turned around and left, letting Brainstorm close the doors and make sure that the lock was engaged. He had no doubt Perceptor had and overwrite, but Brainstorm knew the value of putting up a token obstacle in someone’s way. It made them think twice about whatever mischief they were planning. Putting hurdles in the way slowed them down.

And hopefully it would slow down Perceptor.

Brainstorm looked over his apartment. Still some mess to clear up, but he didn’t feel like doing it. He felt like just laying down, or to sit in the far corner and wait for the doors to open without him having done anything to do it.

Brainstorm scoffed at that thought in him. Why should he even do that? Why was he such a coward now? He had taken a hidden wow of never killing anyone but that didn’t mean he would have to be afraid of everyone, even if they were a proven Wrecker that survived having gone up against Overlord when he was at his best.

Brainstorm opened up the communicator in his room.

“Hey Nautica, think you might want to come over?” Brainstorm asked, and received an affirmative seconds after. Apparently Nautica was good with that.

And it was one more hurdle for Perceptor if he decided that he would not be intimidated by a locked door.

As Brainstorm waited for Nautica to come over, there was a thought stuck in his head. If Perceptor had been discouraged by Brainstorm just simply saying no and being firm on it, would Perceptor had stopped his advances if Brainstorm had done the same when Perceptor had first come to his lab?


	5. Chapter 5

Brainstorm turned to look at Perceptor when he noticed he wasn’t leaving. He saw him using one of his laboratory wipes to clean himself and around his spike, the inner spike cover already shut.

This wasn’t supposed to be like this. Perceptor always left pretty quickly and without much fuzz at all. If he was staying, then something had changed. Brainstorm wondered for a moment if Nautica had blabbered something to someone, a misguided attempt to help him. But he brushed that aside. He knew that she was probably not confident enough to know who could really help and who wouldn’t. She didn’t do much socially, preferred fixing problems with engines rather than society.

“I have to admit that I still don’t get you.” Perceptor smiled as he stretched his arms. Well, he needed to as he had been using them to pin Brainstorm down.

“I prefer to be the mystery type.” Brainstorm answered. “But you seem to have me figured out by now. Or at least enough.”

“It’s never going to be enough.” Perceptor said, sending a bad chill down Brainstorm’s struts. “What was with practically throwing me out of your apartment? I would have figured you as the type to keep work and personal life separate.”

“I used work in attempt to leave a world for someone I -” Brainstorm hesitated, unsure what to say exactly. “- respected.” He quickly finished with the word he could have used to describe Perceptor few months ago.

And you knew the consequences of your actions.” Perceptor said. “Just for Quark, you were willing to commit murder-suicide. With the world as we know it being murdered.”

“And then Predestination Paradox decided to be an actual thing.” Brainstorm said. As tempting as it was to just talk about the whole actual ramification of his little adventure in his first and only murder, he didn’t want Perceptor to talk about his work. He didn’t want to listen to him, he wanted him out of there so he could get himself cleaned.

Brainstorm realized his valve cover was still open. No real transfluid or lubricant though, Perceptor liked to ejaculate deep into him, so it would take a while for the transfluid to become viscous enough to run down and out of him.

Brainstorm hated that, how long it would take him to be fully rid of Perceptor.

He closed his valve cover and wiped with it with a damp cloth. Thankfully his cloth that Perceptor had not handled. He didn’t want to get stuck on that thought.

“Why here?” Perceptor asked. “Why just here and not at your hab? Well, mine is open whenever you want to drop in. You do know that you hurt me.”

Brainstorm opted not to answer. He didn’t even know what he would get out of it. He knew what Perceptor would get out of it. He would get Brainstorm to let him into the hab suite and thus break down Brainstorm’s last safe space he had on board the ship. Swerve’s was out, he didn’t like going there after letting Swerve take all the blame for the whole poisoning thing. Several other places on the ship were out as well for not being secure. There was just one place that Brainstorm could call his, and that was his hab suite.

“You know what? I don’t care.” Brainstorm said, tired of his train of thought. “There is nothing between us. You choose to spend your watch-hours this way, fine by me, you don’t own the rest of me.”

“Nothing between us?” Perceptor’s laugh almost sent Brainstorm into panic. “What happened to the Brainstorm who constantly annoyed me? Who constantly tried to one-up me and pretend there was something between us?”

“I know better now.” Brainstorm walked towards the exit of his lab and opened the doors. “Leave.”

“We are not done.” Perceptor said. “I’ll talk to you later, when you’re more calm and ready to have a serious conversation.”

“Talk? Or just frag me like I’m just a cheap interface aid?” Brainstorm asked, but Perceptor didn’t answer, leaving the lab. Not in a hurry, but in the same careful calm controlled manner as in every other time he had left the lab with his transfluid staining Brainstorm on the inside.

Brainstorm stood there for a while, staring at a spot in front of the doors leading outside. His mind was blank, and he simply existed. There was no thought, there was no pondering or working, he was just there like a decoration.

He had been a decoration for Perceptor for a long time now. A pretty little thing with sensitive wings and spread legs. Every single encounters were now running on a script. Perceptor came, Brainstorm said his token “no” and Perceptor ignored it in favor of whatever position he wanted Brainstorm in that day. Except Perceptor had broke the script now, staying and trying to talk to Brainstorm, when he really didn’t want to be reminded of what he was doing by simply staying there.

Brainstorm snapped out of it, checking the time and feeling that enough time had passed by now. He went to the far washracks, knowing that if Perceptor cleaned himself up, he preferred the washracks in this section of the ship.

Brainstorm didn’t want to wait for the transfluid to stop being gel-like and become runny. He just wanted it out now. He was lucky, finding a booth that could easily fit him while he was sitting down with his leg spread.

Brainstorm didn’t even manage to feel disgusted at himself for thinking that, even when it was unintentional. The spout could be detached from the wall, so he quickly did just so, opened his valve cover and let it hit him there. Fingers dug into his valve passage, curling to catch the gobs of mixed transfluid and lubricants and scoop them out. He didn’t even feel like retching at the feel of it.

After digging most of it out, knowing that whatever remained would not bother him at his work or feel, Brainstorm let the spout spray on his chest, a place that he knew that Perceptor’s fingers had touched him today.

Something bothered him. He hadn’t been this invasive before when it came to cleaning himself up after Perceptor’s taint. He had usually just let the washing fluids run on him and simply let the fluids into his valve for a moment to expel the then runny transfluid.

He had expected to feel more… aroused. He had had his fingers up in his valve, brush the nodes there, but he had felt nothing. He recalled today, and last few times Perceptor had taken him. He couldn’t even remember if he had overloaded or not. He did feel like he had, his body was tired and with the same numbness as he had experienced when self-servicing before Perceptor came along. But he couldn’t remember an actual wash of feel, the weak legs, the arched back, the moans when pleasure washed over him.

Brainstorm let his fingers go down and into his now clean valve. He stroked it in the manner he had done a long time ago, self-servicing like he had before. But there was nothing. He pushed against nodes he knew that were there, he pushed deep to touch the one that he knew that would send chills through his whole body and cause maddening sensation that was still not an overload.

Nothing.

Had Perceptor really broken him that much?


	6. Chapter 6

“I’m beginning to think the rumors of your prowess were all fake. Every single one of them. Including the one where-”

“Alright Brainstorm are you going to shut up now?” Skids said as he curled his finger in Brainstorm’s valve. It did create a sensation, but it felt more like when Brainstorm rubbed his own wings. A nice sensation, but not what whatever Skids was trying to make him feel. And it had the added bonus of feeling very invasive as well.

This was a mistake. Brainstorm forced himself to relax up against Skids as he was trying to get Brainstorm off, trying to prove that his amnesia had not taken some of his quick learned talent away.

Maybe it had been, or someone jealous of the outlier had started those rumors. But it certainly did not feel like there was anything true to those rumors.

And Brainstorm certainly wasn’t helping things. He could hear Skids’ minor sounds of frustration as Brainstorm wasn’t playing along with whatever script that was running in his head. Very decidedly unsexy. Everything about it was doing all it could to turn Brainstorm off. Not like he was even turned on in the first place. He had certainly gotten his fluids going when Skids had started, but as it was with when Perceptor took him he just stopped feeling anything. The body was doing what it was supposed to do in this situation, with the fingers of someone very talented, or at least rumored to be, in his valve doing whatever it took to get him off.

And it wasn’t working.

Brainstorm didn’t know why. He had heard about psychological effects from trauma doing something like this, but he had never been that utterly defeated. Perceptor could not get that much power over him. Hell, Perceptor hadn’t satisfied him at all in the last few weeks. Of course Brainstorm dreaded every moment he was working in his lab, resulting in lax slow work. Perceptor had turned that lab of his into his own personal hell. He was even more relaxed when Ultra Magnus was in there. That meant Perceptor was busy with something else than drilling into Brainstorm.

“I don’t think this is working out.” Skids said low and withdrew his finger from Brainstorm’s valve.

“You got that too?” Brainstorm asked, disappointed, though mostly in himself. “So what now?” He asked and his hands went down between his leg as if on their own accord. He didn’t want to be spiked, not at all.

Skids stretched and sat down besides Brainstorm, looking strangely apologetic. What did he have to be sorry about? Brainstorm hadn’t been exactly a good host or partner.

“You okay Brainstorm?” Skids asked. “You just feel more -” He looked up in thought. “As if you’re angry at the world. Not me though.”

“Something like that.” Brainstorm said. “Sorry for dragging you into this.”

“Something happen between you and Nautica?” Skids asked. “It’s just that, I don’t know if the others have seen it, but when you look at each other it’s like you got a secret between you or something. Something bad.”

“You hang around with Nightbeat, you’ve probably heard theories as of why.” Brainstorm shrugged. He didn’t want to put Skids into that little group of secrets.

“Nightbeat?” Skids smiled, and then laughed. “That poor sod is clueless when it comes to people. He had to be told that Chromedome and Rewind were Conjunx.”

“I guess the next thing he said was asking just what that was.” Brainstorm chuckled.

“Heard you smile.” Skids said and smiled as well.

“I guess so.” Brainstorm said. “Haven’t done that lately.”

“No new doomsday weapons in the plans? That has always made you a bit giddy. I think you almost took flight in root mode when you had the idea to make the ennui gun.” Skids said.

“Well, as much as I want to make something like that again, I got a lot of red tape to cut through now.” Brainstorm said. “Ultra Magnus decided that my ideas were “problematic” some time ago.”

“Ouch.” Skids said.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, neither knowing what to say or if to start over again. Brainstorm twitched his wings in boredom of doing nothing, and looked over to Skids, who returned that look.

“Well, should we try again?” Brainstorm asked. Even though he wasn’t in the mood, he didn’t want to admit that Perceptor had gotten that under his plating. He wanted to feel right, like when self-servicing with a nice false spike.

“I’m not sure.” Skids said. “The moment has kinda passed, don’t you think?”

Brainstorm sighed, closing his valve cover. Skids had closed his outer covers without Brainstorm noticing. That was probably a good thing. No humiliation, no way to do something wrong.

“Yeah, I think so too.” Brainstorm said.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but can it be you’re sick or something?” Skids asked.

“Okay how do you figure?” Brainstorm asked, closing his outer covers. He didn’t need to clean up, at least not right now.

“I mean, I am good at this.” Skids said. “I know you were basically daring me to prove it but I don’t mind. I was doing basically everything I knew to get you to feel good.”

“Amnesia.” Brainstorm shrugged.

“Mirage didn’t think so.” Skids said.

“Mirage? Really?” Brainstorm rolled his eyes. “The only reason you mention him is because he’s currently on Cybertron and I can’t know the story from him.”

“He heard the same rumors as you did. He wanted to know how true they were just as you.” Skids said. “But I’m serious. I’ve heard of numb valves, but this one feels like too numb.”

“Doesn’t feel numb to me. I feel your fingers in it, but I don’t feel the-” Brainstorm looked down on the floor. “I don’t feel the rest of it I guess. Alright, even if it is numb, what then?”

“Get checked out.” Skids said. “Velocity isn’t that bad, she might figure something out, or at least point you in the right direction.”

Velocity. Brainstorm wondered if it was really worth the risk. If he was tactful about it, he could avoid mentioning just who his bedfellows were. A doctor would ask questions, but Brainstorm was good at avoiding those.

“Alright, I’ll get it checked out.” Brainstorm said. At least he had to avoid Skids from probing further into this.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite Skids’ worries, Brainstorm did not go to Velocity. It felt stupid. He knew what the problem was, even though he had been in quite a denial about it. Perceptor was the problem, and he was probably not going to stop being the problem. What could he do about it anyway?

Brainstorm felt convinced that the hangups he was having involved being with other people. He had never really felt the need to be with others that way. He had enough fun with his toys, perfectly safe toys despite what others thought he wanted, and then the occasional bedfellow. He missed those now. He missed those moments. He didn’t miss them before Perceptor had come to his lab with anything but supervising on his mind, but now he did.

So now Brainstorm was sitting with a false spike buried up in his valve, trying to feel anything out of it. But it felt just as dead as Skids’ fingers. There was nothing he could get out of riding that spike, no matter how slow or how hard. Even vibrators did nothing. Brainstorm growled in frustration, slamming down on the spike as hard as he could, gaining nothing out of it but a sharp pain in his valve. Whimpering, he carefully stood up, daring a look at his spike to see if there was anything that indicated he had seriously injured himself in this act of stupidity. But there was just lubricants on it. No indication of serious tear in his valve. He would probably be just sore the next few days.

Now he really hoped that Perceptor would not visit him in that span of days. It would be even worse than before, and he wasn’t sure if he could just tell him he wasn’t in the mood. It hadn’t stopped Perceptor before.

Brainstorm crawled up on his recharge slab and lied down on his back. He had never been able to do that “blank mind” trick before, but he focused on his sore valve, trying to map where exactly the injury was in it, how the bruised wall would look like from the inside, how long it would take to recover from this. It worked for a moment, it helped him compartmentalize the pain and isolate it from himself. It did take his thoughts away from Perceptor for a moment.

Brainstorm wondered how it would be if he had been doing the spiking the whole time. He was a valve mech, having always felt better from a nice false spike and the occasional few real spikes, the exception being the most obvious one.

So he was both surprised and not surprised when he felt the insistent pressure to release his spike. He ran his fingers over the spike cover, feeling the near electrifying tinge of arousal. He hadn’t felt that in a while, not even when he tried to ride the false spike earlier.

He let the spike cover part and the spike quickly pressurized, apparently promising Brainstorm what his valve could not deliver. He took a moment to look over it. It wasn’t big or small, it was just average, given the spike he had seen before. False spike were always bigger than the average for some Primus-damned reason.

Brainstorm just lightly touched his spike, feeling more than just the faint electrifying feeling of when he brushed against his spike cover. He was acutely aware of his fans kicking on as he stopped just touching and gripped his spike. Not too tight, just enough to envelop it so that he could feel the bump of his fingers as he pumped his spike.

It felt like heaven. It was the best he had felt in months. He let his head tilt back and his back arched ever so slightly as he began pumping his spike in earnest, chasing down an overload he had been denied for so long. His venting became erratic as he felt the sheer need for that overload coupled with the frustration knowing that he had just started. It would take few but long-passing minutes until he could get that release.

Brainstorm felt as if the passage of time became more of an abstract concept. All his focus was on his spike and just how utterly good it felt. It was more than just a good feeling, it was as if he was drinking some fresh distilled energon as if he hadn’t had any for years. There was a quick flare of awareness as he felt himself tumble over the precipice, the point of no return, and moments after the overload slammed into him like it were his first one.

It took him few minutes to gain real awareness of his surroundings, the transfluid on his lower torso and his fingers, the remainder of it leaking down the depressurizing spike. First there was the feeling of just how good it had felt. Then there was the awareness that this hadn’t really happened before. Why was his own valve feeling so numb and his spike apparently having inherited all the sensitivity the valve had given up?

Maybe Skids was right. Maybe it was time to go visit the medbay. This felt like it wasn’t normal.


	8. Chapter 8

It took few days for Brainstorm’s valve to finally recover from his little mishap with the false spike. And thankfully Perceptor had not come in the meantime. It were just few days, the time between visits had been longer before, but it hadn’t stopped Brainstorm worrying that he would come, and what he would have done had Brainstorm actually tried to stop him on the account for that his valve was hurting and it would clearly not be because of him.

He had even ruined one of his experiments when stuck in that thought.

But now he didn’t really have any excuses. He had got wait until he got healed so that Velocity would have a good enough baseline to figure out if there was indeed something wrong with his valve.

He had made his appointment, come at the planned time, and not been stopped by anyone. He even wondered why he thought he would be stopped in the first place.

“Hello Brainstorm.” Velocity smiled when he came in. “I have to admit that I didn’t think I would see you soon. You had your last checkup just before Ratchet left.”

“Something came up.” Brainstorm said. “I think there is something wrong with me, just want to know if it is physical or not.”

“No problem. What can you tell me about it?” Velocity asked as she took up a datapad and typed on it.

“My valve has kinda stopped feeling things.” Brainstorm said bluntly, knot feeling like beating around the bush in this matter. He just wanted to make this a quick in and out kind of affair.

And Velocity froze, her fingers hovering over some command on the datapad as she had been clearly caught off guard. Great, apparently Brainstorm would be her first patient on board to come over to her with interfacing problems. He had hoped that it wouldn’t be the case.

“Ah.” Velocity said finally. “There is a private room in this medbay, it would be best if we move over to there.”

“I figured that would be the case.” Brainstorm said as he followed Velocity beyond a pretty nondescript door in the medbay. It wasn’t quit the private room he had described, and was more for isolated and carefully prepared surgeries. But with all the surgical equipment stoved away for now, it was roomy enough for a regular checkup.

“So, what can you tell me about this? When did you first have a feeling that, well, you didn’t have much of a feeling in your valve?” Velocity asked. She already looked like that this was a pretty awkward affair. She probably hadn’t done much of this sort of thing back on wherever she came from.

“Began shortly after I started interfacing again recently.” Brainstorm forced out of himself. He had already rehearsed part of this. No mentioning Perceptor, no mentioning what he was doing to him psychologically, no mentioning the repeated rapes. It wasn’t even a rape by the physical description of it, and Velocity wouldn’t find any evidence of it that way. That was for the eyebrows guy, whom Brainstorm knew that he would never go to for this matter.

“After that?” Velocity asked. “So I take it the first time around everything was as it should be.”

“Pretty much.” Brainstorm shrugged. Of course it wasn’t as it should have been, because if it was then Perceptor would have stopped the moment Brainstorm said no. But Velocity didn’t need to know that. She only needed to know what happened physically. Which was just regular interfacing, nothing different about it.

“Have you tried doing something differently? Tried switching or different positions? Has the feeling ever returned in occasional trysts?” Velocity asked.

“There has been different positions, but we have never switched. He prefers spiking and I prefer being spiked.” Brainstorm answered, neglecting to say he preferred false spikes over the real deal but that didn’t matter for the line of questioning. The feeling just kinda disappeared, and hasn’t come again.”

Velocity looked kinda perplexed, probably as her assumed scenarios did not fit whatever Brainstorm was saying. She was now looking more intensively on her datapad, apparently looking something up that would hopefully better fit what Brainstorm was saying. He didn’t mind. First Aid had on occasion had to look things up when he didn’t know. Though Ratchet would probably know by know what was going on and already fixed it if it were a physical issue.

“How about spiking, have you tried that?” Velocity asked as she was reading on the datapad, clearly going over a checklist that Brainstorm could not see.

“I think that’s the odd part.” Brainstorm said. “I’ve never really liked it, but I kind of got frustrated few days ago and tried to self-service. Damn near tore my valve walls by riding the fake spike too hard, but when I self-serviced my own it felt far more dramatic than it had any right to be.

“Better?” Velocity asked.

“So good it damn near knocked me out.” Brainstorm answered.

“Okay, there are few possibilities that come to mind.” Velocity said. “Has this ever happened before with other partners?”

“Yeah, when this started I figured it was the guy’s fault so I tried interfacing with another partner. That didn’t work out.”

“You -” Velocity paused. “Sorry, I’m still kinda getting used to you Cybertronian lot. On Caminus we are not as “carefree” about relationships. But I meant before you started your current relationship. With the first one I mean.”

“I know what you mean.” Brainstorm said and seemingly shrunk on himself. “It was more like an act of desperation to feel “right” again. It didn’t work. As for previous partner, before the Lost Light, then everything was normal. Including when self-servicing.”

“Okay. If you would lie down and part your valve cover.” Velocity said. “Just want to take a small sample from your inner valve walls to see if I can eliminate couple of possibilities. Won’t take a minute.”

Brainstorm did as asked. That was at least normal. A medical checkup was normal and had no hangups associated with those. Velocity also moved quickly, as if to make Brainstorm as comfortable as possible, like if she knew how far he had gone to avoid going to her. The smear test was barely felt and Velocity was already done. She put it to some machine where she could get some analysis of the scraping from his valve walls and lubricant.

“Keep lying there with the valve cover open.” Velocity said after few seconds. “I think I found the issue.”

“What did you find?” Brainstorm didn’t quite follow the instructions, rising up into a sitting position so he could take a quick glance at the screen, though he didn’t understand any of it. That was the job for Ratchet, First Aid and now Velocity. He felt confused, having always thought that this was caused by the mental trauma of Perceptor repeatedly raping him.

“It’s a parasite.” Velocity said. “It has developed specifically to be transmitted via interfacing. It transmits via transfluid, latches onto the valve walls and deadens the feeling in it for you, while powering up via the charge of the nodes, robbing you of that. Then it lays eggs where the transfluid collects before being ejaculated.

“Really?” Brainstorm asked. So what’s the treatment?” He asked.

“A small electric shock. Too small for you to feel, but it will kill them and fry the eggs.” Velocity asked. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to spike your partners already.” She added as she rolled out an innocent looking machinery to next to the medical berth.

“Why?” Brainstorm asked. “I’ve always been more of a valve mech.”

“But as you said, when you self-serviced your spike it felt far better than before. That’s a side effect of not feeling anything in your valve.” Velocity said. “The parasite takes advantage of that.” She took couple of contacts from the machine, and with light controlling touches got Brainstorm to lie down again where she wanted him.

“So you just want to spike?” Brainstorm asked. “I mean, it didn’t really cross my mind.” As Velocity nodded, he went still so that she could concentrate on her work. Putting the contacts near his valve opening felt like just a clinical touch, nothing arousing about it and Brainstorm wondered if that was because of the deadened feel caused by the parasite, or it was just because this was not an interface situation. Velocity had been right, Brainstorm didn’t feel any pain, just light contractions as the electricity went into him. The process was repeated couple of times before Velocity removed the electric contacts and put them aside, presumably to be cleaned.

“One question.” Brainstorm asked as he sat up again, closing his valve cover. “If this parasite drives you to spike someone, or at least self-service with the spike rather than valve, can it also drive someone to, perhaps, rape?”

Velocity stopped what she was doing, taking a moment before turning back to Brainstorm.

“No.” She answered, looking at Brainstorm as if she was trying to determine just why he had asked her, if he had been driven to rape or not. “While some might be more mentally driven to interface, it does not overwrite common sense or decency.”

“Just curious.” Brainstorm answered as he stood up, confident that he looked decent enough to leave.

“Before you leave, I would want to know whom you have been interfacing.” Velocity said. “Your first partner is likely the one who infected you. This parasite can lay dormant for a while but even if you caught it before coming to the Lost Light they might be infected. Valve-to-spike transfer is rare but doable.”

Brainstorm looked at her. He didn’t see the face of professional worry, he saw the personal pain of someone who wanted to help but didn’t know how. Velocity had apparently sussed it out with Brainstorm’s question and given how he had dodged saying just who his partners were or how it started.

“I’m sorry.” Brainstorm said. “I’ll bring it up with both of them and let them decide what they want to do with that information.”

“You can talk Brainstorm.” Velocity said. “To me. You can talk to me about this. If you don’t want to do anything about it, if you don’t want to involve someone higher up, that’s fine.”

“That’s assuming you know what is going on.” Brainstorm said. “Like I said, I’ll let it be up to them to decide if to turn to you or wait until First Aid comes back to deal with this. And the less said about this the better.” He turned around and left the medbay in a hurry. He didn’t want to be persuaded by Velocity to confess.


	9. Chapter 9

Brainstorm was prepared. He hadn’t just stormed out of the medbay to go straight to Perceptor. He had however avoided saying much more by leaving far too early, leaving him to do all the research on the damned parasite.

Nestler, as it was commonly known, didn’t have much public awareness around it, and the symptoms weren’t that grave to begin with. Just dull sensation in the valve, which meant nothing when you had another interfacing organ to play with. Also made some more horny than others. That probably explained Perceptor. Could even be dormant long after infection. Perceptor might have gotten it long ago. Or even Brainstorm. But it was easier to think Perceptor was the one who had it to begin with. The alternative was worse.

But it didn’t explain why Perceptor had done what he had done. It didn’t have any mind-altering abilities, so Velocity was right, it didn’t overwrite common sense and decency.

Brainstorm had a disposable datapad ready, loaded with information on it along with drawing a little pretty picture even Perceptor could understand that spelled out “HEY YOU GOT THIS THING GET IT FIXED”.

The temptation to just throw the datapad at Perceptor the moment he saw him was strong, but that was not how to go about it. Brainstorm wanted this to stop. And there was the feeling that he might have misunderstood Perceptor the whole time.

Brainstorm’s pace quickened as he quelled that thought. No, Perceptor had raped him, that was a fact. But the thought that Perceptor might have not known what he was doing was worse. Which basically meant it was Brainstorm’s fault for not fighting harder. To think that the simple far too small protest at the start every time was enough to hammer it in that he wasn’t doing this willingly.

He had plenty of things to feel guilty about already, why not another one?

Brainstorm was aware of each step he was taking that was taking him closer to Perceptor’s quarters. There was no forgotten moment, no forgotten ‘tck’ of each footstep, of each sensation when the air brushed by his wings as he just slightly swiveled his waist for balance as he walked towards what was probably not certain doom, but it was still going to be awkward and probably end in a terrible shouting match. He didn’t know what was about to happen, but it had to.

At the last hallway he couldn’t help but to count down to the second to when he would be in front of Perceptor’s doors. He knew that he was in his hab at the moment, having already checked with the ship’s computers just to avoid any further embarrassment and awkwardness. He just wanted this to be over with, and the sooner the better. Maybe it would actually stop Perceptor from going into his laboratory just because his spike said so.

Hardly any time passed from ringing the door alert to Perceptor answering. He looked surprised, but then relaxed and smiled.

“Ah Brainstorm, I have to admit that I didn’t expect you to come around after what happened.” Perceptor said.

“Not that kind of visit.” Brainstorm said. He saw how Perceptor stiffened, stopping whatever facade he was doing and taking on the more professional demeanour that he reserved for Ultra Magnus, or even Rodimus if Rodimus was behaving.

Primus, would it have been that easy at the start of this mess?

“Work related?” Perceptor asked.

“No.” Brainstorm said. “I want you to stop.”

“Stop - what exactly?” Perceptor glanced at Brainstorm, trying to figure out if he could read the context from Brainstorm’s body posture or something else. But Brainstorm wasn’t about to make it easy for Perceptor.

“What you’ve been doing to me the past few months.” Brainstorm said. “I don’t know why you even started in the first place, but it is going to end. Now.” He had to hammer that in, he had to stay on that point. He couldn’t stand the thought of experience the dread the next time he went into his lab.

“Brainstorm, what are you even talking about?” Perceptor asked.

“So you’re denying it now?” Brainstorm gripped the datapad, almost throwing it at him.

“No Brainstorm, I’m not.” Perceptor seemed to realize that something was escalating, and brought his hands in front of him, backing up half a step. “You’re clearly still angry or upset, if you would just calm down and we-”

“I think I’m as calm as I can ever get talking to you.” Brainstorm cut in, thrusting the datapad in front of Perceptor’s face.

“What is this?” Perceptor asked as he slowly brought his hand to the datapad, effortlessly taking hold of it and put it to a readable distance when Brainstorm let go of it.

“Something you’re intimately familiar with.” Brainstorm said. “You infected me with it.” He gave Perceptor a minute to read the summary he had left for him.

Perceptor then looked up at Brainstorm, back into his work-look. “Are you sure?” He asked, still seemingly sceptical despite everything else.

“I am.” Brainstorm answered. “Velocity found it, dealt with it. Now it’s your turn, and whoever you’ve been facing as well.”

“There hasn’t been anyone else. I’m not one of those.” Perceptor said. Brainstorm briefly wondered if he found out about Skids or not, but figured that if he had then there would be actual contempt in his voice.

“You got it from somewhere. I’m going to guess it’s from your wrecker years.” Brainstorm shrugged. “But you are still going to stop. No more visits in the lab that isn’t supervising me or my projects.”

“You can’t be serious, just because of this?” Perceptor waved the datapad in front of him before he resumed reading from it.

“I always said no.” Brainstorm said low as he glanced aside, both to avoid looking at Perceptor and to see if anyone else were skulking about in the hallway. It was empty. Even though he wasn’t looking directly at Perceptor he could see him freeze, looking straight at Brainstorm. Then he put his hand to his head, shaking it slightly.

“You can’t be serious.” Perceptor said. “Is this what your story is going to be? I thought with how you’ve been trying to catch up with me you were interested in -”

“Never.” Brainstorm hissed. “Never that way. Never will be. This isn’t my story, this is what happened.” He nearly took a step forward but stopped short, recalling that Perceptor had once invited him into his quarters. He did not want to take the chance. Perceptor certainly wasn’t giving in to his demands.

He could decide “no” didn’t mean a thing. That physically resisting didn’t mean a thing.

But Perceptor didn’t look angry. Or happy for that matter. He just looked - He just had that same impassive look on him. After he had joined the wreckers he rarely expressed his feelings in any form. It was maddening for Brainstorm, who had to admit to himself he had repeatedly tried to seek Perceptor’s approval. Before all of this happened.

“I thought it was you being just you.” Perceptor said. “But very well. I’ll -” Perceptor paused as his impassivity became complete and he turned back to the datapad. “- get this looked at. You don’t have to worry about me again.”

“Fine.” Brainstorm said. He didn’t wait for Perceptor to answer before he turned around and left. Perceptor didn’t follow or call after him or anything else. Brainstorm could even hear the door close as he skulked away.

As much as he didn’t want to, he thought about what had happened. That if he had tried to struggle just slightly then everything could have gone differently. Had Perceptor really been that blind to it? Had he really thought that Brainstorm only wanted to frag him?

Brainstorm went past his lab and back to his quarters. At least that was still safe, unlike his lab. Perceptor had never come in here except once, and that was when Brainstorm wasn’t there but was busy trying to destroy the known universe.

He wasn’t going to repeat that one again, if it meant he could feel safe again.

Brainstorm curled up on his recharge berth, flinching each time he heard someone pass the doors to his hab too closely.


End file.
